Twelve
by Sou1Waffle
Summary: Eleven's last days and regeneration told through the eyes of a minimally-characterized OC companion (story focus on the Doctor).
1. The Lonely God

As a child, I was told stories of the Time Lords. The gods of time who cheated death simply by changing their faces. I was told there were none left- their dues had been paid. Cheaters never win. Nobody told me what that meant, not really. I thought it really was some big game for most of my life- like they were sitting around playing poker and some nut job had finally come up and shot them all for faking their success. That didn't stop me from searching for them- they could be anywhere, any time, whenever and wherever they felt like being. I hoped that one of the gods would visit me, would find me as a child and take me off to see the stars. So I prayed. I prayed because that is what one does when seeking a god. And after I prayed, I grew up. Twenty-four years went by, and I forgot about the Time Lords from Gallifrey.

Then I met the Doctor. A real live Time Lord- at first glance, not quite the god one would expect. As our stories were told, gods did not wear bow ties and tweed jackets. But I learned- I suppose the word learned is a stretch, more of a "here take this" and a split-second memory transference- about this man, all of his travels and his adventures. The men and women whom he had taken off to see the universe and left behind. The terrible crimes he had committed, the horrors he had seen, the grief and the pain he had both caused and experienced. But there was also so much good- all of the lives he had saved, the hope and the adventure and the wonder and how much beauty he brought into the lives of those he met. And I knew, in that split-second moment, that he was the god I had been searching for. But he was the last. A god indeed, but a lonely god, one in need of a family to help him with the loss of the ones he had gained and left behind.

So I joined him. I came with him on his travels, saw the far reaches of the galaxy and beyond. Magnificent, enormous planets at the center of solar systems being orbited by stars. Sentient plants and creatures without conscious thought. An entirely man-made, synthetic system and a restaurant at the end of the universe itself. And it was beautiful and horrifying and so small and yet so large at the same time. Much like my lonely god himself.

But there is a breaking point for everything in creation.


	2. The Broken God

I told the Doctor to drop me off at home for a while. I needed a few months to myself, I said. You can pick me back up when you need me, but give me some time and give yourself some time. The TARDIS materialized outside my house, I stepped out, gave him a hug, and bid him farewell for then. I walked three steps to the entrance of my home. Before I even had the chance to step inside, I heard the sound of the blue box once more. I turned and looked at it, expecting him to hop out and tell me that I forgot something. But the blue box did not move, and the quirky man in his bow-tie did not open the door.

So I walked over and knocked. It swung open on its own, and I walked into the console room, looking for my lonely god. It was odd, not seeing him running about the machine he loved so much. I couldn't help but think perhaps the TARDIS had brought herself here. I feared the worst: my Doctor was dead. But a few steps around the console brought me a sight more heart wrenching than what I could have even imagined.

The Doctor sat there, eyes red, staring straight out at nothing. He was hunched over, hands on his knees, taking labored breaths every moment or so. Nothing about this was worse than his eyes: the eyes so full of light and love and childish joy now held an emptiness that I had only seen glimpses of before. When we went to Earth to visit an old graveyard where a woman called Noble was buried, or when we visited New New New York's archive of classic literature from the twenty-first century. And even then, they were only flashes at a word or an object, and only when he thought nobody could see him.

I looked at my god, now a broken man. I could not fathom what in any universe that ever had or would exist could break him beyond repair. The silence in the room was almost tangible- the air ran so thick with it that I felt there was no point in speaking. When he finally spoke, his words surprised me.

"I was just on a date." The Doctor turned his head up to look at me with a half-smile that reminded me of what happens when one colors on green paper with a yellow marker. It doesn't change a damn thing about the paper.

"With who?" I asked. Then it occurred to me—wasn't he-

"My wife."

"Did it go well?" I felt like this was a ridiculous question, but still necessary.

"Quite." He looked back down and stood up from his seat. "We had a wonderful time. Derillium. The Singing Towers. It was beautiful." There was more silence for a moment. I thought it needed to be said.

"Are you okay?" The way he looked at me, I could tell that all he wanted to do was cover up his pain with another façade and descend into a cheerful "Of course. When am I not?" with a devilish smirk. But he didn't, simply because he couldn't.

"I'm sorry for bothering you at this point in time. I'll just drop you back off with your husband-"

"Since when do I have a husband?"

He jumped a bit. "My apologies. Spoilers." The Doctor exhaled and another weight descended upon his shoulders. He repeated the word under his breath.

"Spoilers."


End file.
